The one who would not fold
by superninjagurl
Summary: When Prince Kurt first met Sir Noah Puckerman and decided to keep him around for the rest of his life.


Prince Kurt loved riding. It was one of the few things that he was allowed to do outside of the castle grounds. Of course he was never allowed to ride out on his own, even if it was just in the King's private forest, but it was still a pleasant escape from the stifling and tiresome court life.

He always had at least five of the King's men with him. Sometimes his brother, Finn, would join him and those were his favorite times, because it meant that Finn would bring along the other knights and Kurt could leave the guards at home.

It also meant that he could ride so much faster than he was otherwise allowed, because Finn would never tell anyone that his brother outraced him _every single time._

He loved to ride fast. There was just something so incredibly fascinating and empowering with feeling his horse work beneath him, pushing itself in a mad speed across the fields, obeying his every whim.

As said, he loved to ride fast. However, what he loved even more was to race. And to _win_. The trouble was finding someone worthy of racing.

Finn was no match for him. It was not even fun to race him anymore, since he was awkward in the saddle and did not dare to push the limits.

The guards were not even worth a try. They would report back to the King and then he would be reprimanded about risking his life because of a silly thrill.

The knights did not mind riding fast. In fact, they probably enjoyed it as much as Kurt did.

So Kurt raced them.

He raced Sir Evans. Who folded.

He raced Sir Chang. Who folded.

He raced Sir Flanagan. Who folded.

He raced Sir Abrams. Who folded.

He raced Sir Hart. Who folded.

He even tried to race Sir Anderson, who simply smiled and said that he would not want the lovely Prince to get injured.

Kurt had been fuming the rest of that day. In fact, he refused to speak to anyone every time the knights let him win without a fight. He knew that it was because they wanted to make him feel better, to _like them_ better. How they did not realize that it had the opposite effect was beyond him.

The day it happened was a sunny one with a slight wind. The weather had been nice and warm for several days, so the ground was dry and perfect for some fast riding. Kurt sent for his horse and asked Finn to join him for the ride. He dressed in his creme colored riding breeches and pulled on his black riding boots before joining Finn and his knights in the court yard.

A stable boy handed over Kurt's black stallion and he mounted the frisky horse easily, giving him a delighted pat on the neck before looking up at the men waiting for him. Evans, Chang, Flanagan, Abrams, Hart, Anderson and... A new face.

Finn cleared his throat.

"Kurt, this is Sir Puckerman. He's new."

"Indeed he is," Kurt replied slowly, raised his chin and let his eyes drift over strong facial features, piercing eyes and a powerfully built body.

"I hope it's alright that I'll ride with you today, Your Highness," Sir Puckerman said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

"I certainly don't mind. As long as you don't slow us down."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Your Highness. I like speed."

Kurt smiled with satisfaction.

"Good."

The party started off into the forest, lead by Kurt, in a brisk walk to let the horses warm up. Kurt's stallion was in a good mood, alert and willing to increase their tempo. It did not take long until they were trotting on a familiar trail, taking them to the open field where Kurt preferred to race. Kurt asked the stallion for a controlled canter and their company followed in their wake, stopping only when Kurt made the stallion halt by the beginning of the field.

"Kurt," Finn said warningly, noticing the dangerous glint in Kurt's eyes.

Kurt did not listen.

"Sir Puckerman?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" Sir Puckerman called back, coming up with his horse next to him.

"You said you enjoy speed?"

"I did."

"Then would you race me?"

"You?" Sir Puckerman asked in surprise.

"Yes, me. To the end of the field."

Puckerman's eyes followed his gesture across the large field. When he looked back at Kurt, he was grinning.

"If you wish, Your Highness."

"I do."

"Where do we start?"

"By the tree."

"Kurt..." Finn tried again, but to no avail.

Kurt and Puckerman made their way towards the fallen tree marking the starting point.

"Brother, a count down, please!" Kurt called over his shoulder.

Finn sighed on his horse, admiting defeat.

"Three!"

"Don't hold back," Kurt said to Puckerman.

"Two!"

"Don't worry, Your Highness," he replied. "I won't."

"ONE!"

Both riders pressed their heels into their horses who threw themselves forwards in a mad gallop. Kurt eased on the reins, leaning forwards in the saddle and the stallion gained speed quickly. Kurt felt that usual jolt of excitement course through him, as the wind whipped against his face and through his hair, the sound of hooves thundering against the ground filling his ears.

Puckerman fell back. Kurt threw a look over his shoulder at him. Puckerman was grinning.

"I said, DON'T HOLD BACK!" Kurt shouted over the wind, turning his head back and willed his horse to speed up even more.

They were more than halfway across the field, had passed three quarters when Puckerman started gaining on them.

"And I, Your Highness," Puckerman said and Kurt nearly jumped, so suprised by hearing his voice so close. "... said not to worry! Hiya!"

Puckerman pressed his heels against his horse again, again and again and then they passed Kurt and his stallion.

Puckerman and his horse reached the end first.

Kurt lost.

Kurt lost for the first time in his life.

He had never been this shocked before.

Puckerman pulled on the reins, grinning as his horse slowed down into a trot, riding in a victorious circle with his fist held high in the air. Kurt was gaping as he too pulled on the reins and in his confusion spluttered out;

"But you're supposed to let me win!"

Puckerman's eyes widened briefly and then he burst into laughter.

"I thought you told me not to hold back," he replied, eyes glittering with the thrill of victory.

"I did, but no one ever listens to that!"

"Oh, but who am I to disobey you, Your Highness?"

Kurt closed his mouth. Blinked. Parted his lips to speak, but closed them again. Then the smile took over his face and he lowered his eyes, an odd sense of happiness and exhilaration filling him up from within, a new kind of warmth just beneath his skin.

He turned the stallion around and gestured for Puckerman to join him as they gave the horses free reins and walked back across the field. They were close enough for their knees to brush together with every step.

"I should have you decapitated," Kurt said, giving Puckerman a once over.

Puckerman laughed.

"Yes, you probably should," he agreed with a nod. "But you won't."

"I won't," Kurt admitted. "I think I'd rather keep you around. For quite some time."

"I'm glad."

They shared a promising smile instead of more words.


End file.
